


Completely Satisfied

by BiteMeMarvelCanon



Category: Agent Carter (TV), Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-03
Updated: 2019-01-03
Packaged: 2019-10-03 08:58:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,272
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17281067
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BiteMeMarvelCanon/pseuds/BiteMeMarvelCanon
Summary: Peggy Carter's a hard-to-please grad student with only her career on her mind. And Steve Rogers is a manager who just wants a satisfied customer.Written for the lovely littlereyofsunlight for the 2018 Steggy Secret Santa gift exchange.





	Completely Satisfied

**Author's Note:**

  * For [littlereyofsunlight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/littlereyofsunlight/gifts).



_Four weeks before Christmas, in a small college town in the present day_

The door to the cafe creaked as a blast of cold air hit Peggy's left arm. “I thought you said this place was cozy,” she said, as she pulled her coat up over her shoulders. 

“It _is_ cozy,” Angie argued. “Look at it. All wood, real fireplace, all kinds of homemade things to eat. I thought you’d like it.”

“It certainly looks the part of the kind of place I’d like,” Peggy answered, “I’ll give you that. But it’s chilly in here, and the food is disappointing.”

“Oh you’re just dissatisfied with everything these days. It’s the stress.”

“Why wouldn’t I be stressed? Trying to finish my dissertation, apply for jobs, and teach? It’s like three full-time jobs.”

“I know, I know. I should probably get going and leave you to your work. I’ll be out of your hair just as soon as I finish this,” she said, taking a gulp of coffee.

“You know, I’ve actually been in here before, several years ago. The coffee was abysmal so I never came back,” Peggy said.

“They’re under new management now, and I thought it was great when I was here last week. Besides, it’s good to try new things. You’ve gotten bit too set in your ways, if you ask me.”

Peggy took a sip of her tea. “First of all, I didn’t ask you. Secondly, this place isn’t technically new. And thirdly, I’m trying to do something very new, get a job and move.”

Angie had listened to Peggy’s first two points with a long-suffering look on her face. But at the last, her mood changed. “I know,” she said glumly, “I’m really going to miss you.”

Peggy suddenly regretted her flippant tone. She reached for Angie’s arm and squeezed it. “I’ll miss you too, you know,” she said sincerely. “But there’s no sense in me getting attached to anything—or anyone—else around here right now, with one foot out the door. I’m ready to put grad school, and _everything_ , behind me.”

Angie showed her usual talent for answering Peggy’s thoughts rather than her words. “You know not all guys are like Daniel, right?”

“Oh really. Do you know any? Truly nice guys who aren’t deadbeats but who are willing to let their careers take a backseat to a woman’s? Because I’ve certainly never met one.” 

“I still believe they’re out there. Have some faith, Peg,”

“I’ve had better luck with cynicism, thanks.”

“Such a bad attitude just a month from Christmas,” Angie chided. You’ll get coal in your stocking.”

“Good, maybe I can use it to lower my heating bills.”

Angie laughed as she stood up to put on her coat. “Just remember to take some breaks. I’ll see you later.”

After Angie had left, Peggy got out her laptop and pushed the scone away from her slightly, giving it an accusing look. She had really been looking forward to a hot scone with her tea, but this had been almost inedible. And the tea, well, the tea had been an abomination. Far too much water in the cup and it wasn’t hot enough. She pushed her teacup behind her laptop as well, and settled in to work for a while. Break time was over. 

She had only managed to read a paragraph of her own writing before another interruption presented itself. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see a pair of khakis and a blue button down shirt, covered by an apron, attached to a man who was apparently waiting for an opportune moment to get her attention. She started to turn her head slightly, and he saw his opportunity. “Ma’am,” he said, “Can I clear these things for you?”

“Yes, go ahead,” she answered, not looking up from her computer screen. Hmm, she thought, what was another way to say ‘previous research’?

He had picked up her plates, but the blue and khaki form was still hovering beside her. “Ma’am,” she heard again.

“Yes?” she answered, looking up at him.

“You didn’t like your scone?”

“It was all right,” she said, turning back to the screen. She really didn’t have time for a conversation about everything that was wrong with it.

“But it looks like you only took a bite. If it wasn’t good, I’d actually really appreciate knowing exactly what was wrong with it.”

Very well. If this man wanted to hear what she thought, she was in no mood to sugar-coat it. “The inside was undercooked, the bottom was nearly burnt, and it was entirely too sweet.”

“Was the tea good?”

“No. Too much water for the amount of leaves, and it wasn’t hot enough. Now if you’ll excuse me, I really need to get back to my work.”

“Oh, sure. Thanks for answering my questions.”

She didn’t even say you’re welcome. She was definitely never coming here again, she thought. Sub-par food and distracting staff. She turned back to her computer screen. Now, what was a more diplomatic way to say that previous research was stupid?

Only a few minutes had passed when a familiar shape appeared at her elbow.

“Ma’am,” she heard again. For the love of God, she thought. Usually when she couldn’t get work done in a cafe it was because of annoying customers, not the staff. 

“Yes,” she said, turning again with a sigh.

“I came to apologize for the quality of the food. We’ve recently changed the menu here, and I really hope that you would consider coming back and giving us another chance to earn your business. I have my card here giving you a complimentary beverage and baked good. I’m here most days as I’m the new manager. But if you should happen to come in when I’m not here, I’d really appreciate it if you’d let me know whether we did a better job the second time. My name and email are on the card.”

She had been prepared to be annoyed, but as she looked at this man’s face, he was so earnest about doing a good job that she didn't have it in her.

“Really, it wasn’t all that bad. It’s not worth such a fuss.” she said, starting to pack up her work tote.

“It’s not a fuss. It’ s about doing your best. If we didn’t care whether people enjoyed their food here and their time here, what’s the point?”

“You’re quite right,” she answered, taking the card from him, just wanting the interaction to be over. “Thank you. I’ll come by again.”

“You promise?” He asked eagerly.

“Yes, I promise.” She unplugged her laptop and slid it into her bag as he headed back behind the counter. 

As she headed out the door, she took one last quick look around. She saw him standing behind the counter, and he raised his hand to wave goodbye. She nodded briefly in return, heading out the door into the cold wind. 

* * *

Peggy was back at the coffee shop sooner than she would have expected. She hadn’t really intended to return, but the sorry state of her bank account, combined with the dullness of staring at the four walls of her apartment had proven too much for her. A change of scene might be just what she needed to jumpstart her writing.

She noticed that the cafe was a little busier than the last time when she came in. She paused on the mat just inside the front door to stomp the snow off of her boots, and found a small table free near the fireplace, where a couple of real logs crackled. Angie had been right about one thing; a real fire was an awfully nice touch.

She took off her gloves, which never actually managed to keep her hands warm enough, and held her hands closer to the fire to warm them. After a few minutes of thawing out, she dug the business card out of her bag and got in line, preparing to explain her free meal to the young woman at the counter. But just before she reached the front of the line, the young man who had given her the card came out and took over for the girl at the counter. Hopefully he would remember giving her the card, or at least he would recognize his own handwriting. But as she stepped up to the counter, before she could say anything, he spoke first. 

“You came back,” he said, a smile spreading over his face. 

“You remember me?” she asked, surprised.

“How could I forget? Burnt scone and weak tea,” he said, pointing at her and smiling again.

“Yes, she said, “But my friends call me Peggy.”

“I’m Steve,” he said, holding out his hand.

She shook hands with him, a little taken aback. He was quite chatty. “So what will it be today? Willing to try your luck with a scone again? I’ve adjusted the recipe.”

“Very well,” she answered, holding the card out to him. “A plain scone and black tea, please.”

“Keep it,” he said, not taking the card. “Just in case we disappoint you again.” 

Peggy smiled politely and headed back to her table. She wouldn’t need the card even if the the food was bad again. No matter how broke she was, she’d rather stay home than eat another bad scone.

She set up her laptop, determined not to get bogged down in her worries as she tried to write. Only a few minutes after she had ordered, the young man, Steve apparently, appeared at her table with a scone and tea.

“Here you go, Peggy,” he said, setting the plate and saucer carefully down on her table. “I hope it’s better this time.”

She realized that he was standing there waiting for her to try it. “ If you’re going to stay, why don’t you sit down?” she said sarcastically.

“Oh, no thanks, I have to get back to work,” he answered, not taking the hint, but still not leaving.

She cautiously took a bite of the scone. To her surprise, it was really quite good, improved in every criticism she had, and she told him as much.

He looked relieved. “I’ll be back in a minute to check on the tea. Don’t go anywhere,” he said cheerfully.

“I won’t,” she replied, shaking her head. Peggy thought she had met most types of people in the world by this point in her life. But she had never met anyone quite like him. Cheerful, earnest, eager to please. Impervious to her bad moods. He was like a golden retriever in human form. 

The tea was much better as well, and she told him so when he returned. “But there’s something else wrong,” he said, narrowing his eyes at her. “Something you’re not saying. I’d like you to be completely satisfied with your order. That’s our policy.”

Peggy sighed. “Yes, there is something else wrong, but it’s not anything about the food, or anything here at all.” 

“I’m a great listener,” he said, waiting.

“I just…I’m trying to get a job and I just had a really bad phone interview.”

She didn’t know why exactly, but she started telling him all about her problems. After a while, at her invitation, he sat down with her at the table. He _was_ a good listener, intent on what she was saying and asking occasional questions for clarification, sympathetic but not trying to offer any quick fixes. She explained how she was working on her dissertation while applying for one of a very small number of available academic jobs, that all her years of study would be wasted if she didn’t get one or that she might end up in some place she didn’t like in the middle of nowhere.

“And that’s why I’m in a foul mood half the time,” she finished.

He sat quietly for a moment, his blue eyes looking thoughtfully at her. “The way you talk about it,” he said, “it sounds like you think you don’t have any control over your situation.”

“You’re right. I don’t. that’s the problem.”

“You have more control than you think. Sure, you can’t guarantee one of those places will offer you a job, but what you do in that situation is up to you. Maybe you try again another year. Maybe you go to Plan B and find a non-academic job, but you’re still in control of your choices. And someone as smart as you has lots of options.”

“But then I would have wasted the last seven years.”

“Don’t you like what you’re studying?”

“Of course I do, or I wouldn’t have spent all these years on it.”

“Then it’s no waste,” he said with a smile.

“I suppose you’re right,” she said, considering what he had said. He was awfully insightful for a random coffee shop employee. 

“I’d better get back to back to work,” he said, standing up.

“Thank you for listening,” she said, “and for the advice.”

“So would you say that you’re completely satisfied with your visit?” he asked with a glint in his eye.

“Yes,” she said, the corner of her mouth quirking into a smile.

“Good,” he said as he headed back to the counter. 

* * *

_Two weeks before Christmas_

Steve spotted Peggy and her friend as soon as they came in. It was more crowded than usual, and there were no tables open.

“Can you take over for me for a minute, Sam,” Steve asked, not waiting for his reply.

Peggy and Angie were still looking for a seat when Steve approached them. “I think the people to the right of the fireplace are getting ready to leave,” he told them. “Can I get you your usual?” he asked Peggy with a smile.

“Yes, please,” she answered, smiling back.

Steve took Angie’s order and headed back behind the counter, where Sam was busy doing double-duty. “Thanks, sorry about that,” Steve said as he put an order together.

“What’s going on?” Sam asked.

“Nothing,” Steve answered, suddenly very interested in the coffee he was pouring.

“You practically leapt over the counter to go talk to those girls. Do you know them or something?”

“Oh, one of them has been coming in here for the past few weeks, and I’ve chatted with her a couple of times.”

“Ok,” Sam said, giving him a look.

As soon as they had settled into the table by the fireplace, Angie looked at Peggy suspiciously.

“I know you said you’d been back here and liked it better. Just how much have you been coming in here?” Angie asked.

“Oh, now and then.”

“Now and then? Now and then enough to have a ‘usual.’ What’s going on with you and that guy?” Angie asked in a stage whisper. 

“Nothing,” Peggy said, suddenly very interested in something in her bag.

Angie waited, crossing her arms.

“Fine. I’ve been in here several times since you first dragged me here. I always seem to be able to write better when I’m here; I don’t know why.”

“I think I know why,” Angie said, looking over at Steve behind the bar.

“Oh, stop it. I’m not interested in Steve or in dating anyone. I only care about getting out of this town as soon as possible,” she said, annoyed, realizing too late that Steve had come up to their table. She wasn’t sure how much he had heard, but he seemed a little strange and left quickly.

* * *

_One week before Christmas_

Friday night at work. For a long time, Steve had sought out these shifts. They weren’t as busy, and aside from a few extremely dedicated students, most of the customers were relaxed and in no hurry. He had always liked the atmosphere, seeing groups of friends and couples on dates.

But tonight every happy couple he saw seemed to give him a pang in his chest. He watched as a man walked in with a woman, his hand on the small of her back. He helped her off with her coat and hung it up for her. He said something to her and she smiled at him. The man came up and ordered two coffees and a slice of cake with two forks. When he went back to their table, he saw the woman rest her hand lightly on his forearm.

Steve was generally calm and easygoing, but as he watched the happy couple, he felt impatient to have that for himself. 

He told himself that the feeling he was having had nothing to do with Peggy, because he knew that she was focused on her career and on moving away as soon as possible. She had been in less often since he had overheard her tell her friend that she wasn’t interested in him, or anyone. He had tried to act normally, pretending that he hadn’t heard her, but he still felt restless and unsatisfied every time he saw her.

But in his more honest moments, he admitted it was her back that he imagined under his hand, her smile greeting him, and her perpetually cold hand on his arm. 

He was so lost in his daydream that he didn’t notice the door open until Sam jabbed him in the ribs and jerked his chin towards Peggy. 

In she walked, as if summoned by his thoughts. She looked around for a moment, getting her bearings, until she spotted him and smiled. Since it wasn’t busy and no one was waiting at the counter, he came out to greet her.

“What can I get you?” he asked, trying not to stare at her.

“Just a cappuccino, please.”

As he prepared her coffee, his eyes kept wandering over to where she was sitting. She couldn’t have been dressed any more differently from her everyday uniform of jeans and a sweater. She was dressed up, wearing a deep red velvet dress that hugged her curves and high-heeled shoes. She had always looked beautiful to him, but tonight she had done her hair differently and was wearing makeup and jewelry that enhanced her best features. He managed to pour half of the hot milk on his hand as he looked over at her again. After he cleaned it up, he made her cappuccino in record time and then forced himself to count to ten and take a few deep breaths before bringing it out to her. 

As he leaned over her table to set the cup down, he tried not to notice the deep v-neck of her dress. Then he stood there in utter silence, probably looking like a complete idiot. Nice job, he thought. Why hadn’t he thought of something to say? 

She looked at him expectantly, then gave him a small smile. “How much do I owe you?” she finally asked, locking eyes with him.

He felt like he would melt under her gaze. “Oh, uh, nothing,” he managed to get out.

“Nothing? What’s the occasion?”

“Ah, Friday night’s a free coffee for”—his mind spun with possibilities, each more inappropriate than the last: English people? People who looked like they had fled a bad date early (he hoped)? Gorgeous women I’m in love with? Why had he even started this sentence?—“for…you,” he finally finished. His answer made absolutely no sense, but at least he hadn’t outright insulted her or embarrassed himself.

“Oh, well, thank you,” she said.

Again they looked at each other for an endless moment.

“So what brings you in tonight?” he asked, staring at the way her mouth touched the cup as she took a sip, leaving a delicate outline of her lips on the rim.

“I was at a departmental holiday party on campus,” she answered. “I had a couple of glasses of wine and thought it might be a good idea to get a cup of coffee before I drive home.”

“Oh,” he said, visibly relieved. “I figured you were on a date or something.”

She didn’t say anything. To her inquiring look, he gestured at her, “Friday night, all dressed up, no laptop.”

“A date? Not likely. I haven’t been on one in more than a year.”

“Really? I figured you’d be out with a different guy every night.”

She raised an eyebrow at him.

“I mean,” he stammered, “You could have any man you want.”

“Could I?” she asked, holding his gaze.

“Absolutely,” he answered, almost in a whisper.

“I know you close in about an hour, she said. So I promise I’ll be out of your hair by then. Oh, there’s no rush,” he said quickly. “Stay as late as you’d like.”

Another customer came in and Steve had to head back behind the counter. After that people came in at an irritatingly sporadic rate. Every time he finished an order and was about to find an excuse to check on Peggy, someone else would come in. 

She would probably leave before he had another chance to talk to her. But as he worked, he noticed that she was nursing her cappuccino. When she had finally finished it, she had gotten herself a glass of water and drank that slowly too. He didn’t dare to hope that she was purposely lingering in order to talk to him. It was fifteen minutes to close by the time things slowed down and he was able to make it back to her table. 

“Can I get you anything else?” he asked. 

“No, thank you,” she answered. “I should probably get going, but I’m really dreading walking back to campus,” she said, gesturing ah her legs. He looked down at them, trying not to stare. “Oh, your shoes,” he said.

“Yes, I foolishly wore dress shoes and a dress coat that are far more stylish than warm. But I didn’t realize that we were in for so much snow,” she said, nodding at the window.

“I don’t think the weathermen realized it either,” he said. “It’s really coming down out there.”

They both looked out the window at the snow falling down steadily.

“You know,” Steve said, gathering his courage, “if you’re not in a hurry, you could wait until I close up here and I could give you a ride to your car.”

“Really,” she said, giving him a brilliant smile. “That would be lovely if it’s not too much trouble. But you’ll have to let me help you close up.”

Steve had never enjoyed cleaning and closing up the cafe like he did that night. When they had taken care of the tables and the dishes, she asked him if there was anything else he had to do. 

“No,” he said uncertainly.

“There is something else,” she protested.

“It doesn’t really have to be done tonight. I was going to decorate the inside of the windows with some snowflakes for the holidays. If I’m really not keeping you here too late, I could go ahead and take care of it. It’ll just be a few minutes.”

“Only if I can try too,” she said. 

“Sure,” he said, heading into the back for supplies.

When he came back he had paintbrushes, paint, and a couple of aprons. He stepped towards her, slipping the apron over her head. “You wouldn’t want to get that dress all messed up,” he said.

She stared up at him, less than a foot away from her in the dimly lit, empty cafe. “Yes, that would be unfortunate,” she answered, feeling a little out of breath.

He went around behind her to tie the strings. It took him three tries to tie it as he was trying to avoid touching her, his heart pounding in his ears. He was acutely aware of the fact that they were alone in the dimly lit cafe, the street outside nearly deserted and all the sound muffled by the softly falling snow. 

He finally managed to tie her apron and pulled his own over his head. He was about to reach back and tie it himself like he usually did when she touched his hand, stopping him. With her other hand, she spun him around. She stood much closer behind him, so close that he could feel her warm breath on the back of his neck. He actually felt lightheaded. She didn’t fumble with the apron strings as he had, but he swore he wasn’t imagining that she took her time tying it. When she had finished, she spun him around again. Surveying him, she touched him lightly on the chest, brushing off a piece of lint. “There,” she said, “all set,” again holding his glance longer than usual.

He cleared his throat and tried to clear his head. “Let’s get started.”

He felt her eyes on him as he opened the paint and prepared the brushes. She watched as he carefully drew an intricate snowflake on the bottom of the large window, and then confidently started another. 

“You’re awfully good at that,” she said admiringly. “You could be an artist.”

“I am, actually,” he answered, still concentrating on the snowflake. After a moment, he continued. “I have a degree and everything. I draw and paint every chance I get. The job here is helping me pay the bills for graphic design courses since it’s really hard to make a living as an artist,” he finished, as he put one more perfect stroke on another snowflake.

“You never told me that,” she said reproachfully.

“You never asked,” he replied, still concentrating on his brushstroke.

“I’m afraid I’m not going to be able to help you with this after all. Next to those, mine would look like a preschooler’s. I don’t want to spoil it.”

“Oh come on,” he said, blushing in spite of himself. “Anyone can do it, it just takes practice. I’ll show you.” He held out his hand and she walked over to him at the window. 

Standing behind her, he put his arm against hers and took hold of her hand. Slowly, he guided each stroke of a simple but elegant design. Their arms were pressed together from wrist to shoulder, and his skin was tingling wherever they touched. Their cheeks were also almost touching, although he was careful not to let his his press into her from behind. She smelled amazing, a very faint scent of some perfume that he had never been close enough to catch before. 

He was barely able to concentrate on what he was showing her, and only vaguely aware that he was rambling on about snowflakes or painting as he tried not think about the fact that if he turned his head a fraction of an inch he would be kissing her cheek. 

“That was very good—I mean, a good lesson,” she said, jolting him out of his daze as he realized they had finished. “Could you show me again?” she asked, a little out of breath.

“Sure,” he answered. If she wasn’t opposed to having a relationship, if she wanted him, right then he would turn her gently towards him by the shoulders and kiss her, so softly at first, his hands on her back…

“Maybe we should get going,” she said, and he realized with a start that they had finished the design, but that he was still holding her hand.

“Right,” he answered reluctantly. “I can finish the rest of this tomorrow.”

He cleaned up the paint and brushes and told Peggy to wait inside while he got his car. He pulled up in front of the cafe, jumping out of his car and jogging over to the door before she could come out. He pulled out his keys so he could lock the door after them, and turned out the last of the lights so that they could only see each others’ faces by the light reflected off the snow outside. He stood in front of her, looking her up and down once more in her wool dress coat, hose, and heels. It’s really gotten cold out there, and the car hasn’t quite warmed up yet.” 

“I’ll be fine.”

“Here, take this,” he said, pulling the scarf off his neck and wrapping it around hers before she had the chance to protest. “There’s at least a half a foot of snow out there,” he continued. “There’s not much we can do about your shoes, though, unless I carry you out,” he added, half-joking.

To his surprise, she didn’t immediately say no. She looked at her dress shoes, and the snow outside, and thought about how unpleasant two legs covered in snow would feel just now, and how pleasant his arms around her would feel…

“All right, if it’s not too much trouble”, she said, trying to keep her voice even.

“It’s no trouble at all,” he said, as they stepped outside. 

He turned to face her, and she put her arms around his neck. He put his arms around her waist and easily scooped her up, carried her to the car, and slid her into the passenger seat.

Neither of them said much as he drove her to the parking garage. She got in her car, and he followed behind her in his all the way to her apartment, wanting to make sure she got home safely. After she had parked in front of her building, he again got out of his car and carried her over the snow bank up to her doorstep.

She unlocked her door and stood there, just looking at him. 

“So would you say you were completely satisfied with your visit this evening?” he asked.

“Yes,” she said softly, as he turned and headed back to his car.

* * *

Peggy woke early the next morning. Outside, everything was deep in snow. something she enjoyed for about five minutes before realizing how long it would take to dig her car out. But she had best get started before the plows came through and made it that much worse. She bundled up and headed out with her shovel.

When she reached her car, however, she found that it had already been cleared off, even the roof, and the heavy snow surrounding it on the ground had also been shoveled neatly into a bank on the sidewalk. She stood looking, unbelieving, at her perfectly clean car, the only one like it on the block. Then she looked down at Steve’s scarf, that she had thrown on without thinking. She rubbed a corner of the wool fabric between her fingers, thinking.

* * *

Peggy bounded into the cafe only two hours after discovering her car, eager to see hm. But Steve wasn’t behind the counter. She scanned the room but didn’t see him anywhere. She was about to give up when another man who worked there came up to her. “You looking for Steve?” he asked. “He’s in the back room, right through there.”

She found him sitting at a table working at a laptop. “I came to bring you your scarf back,” she said.

Strangely, he looked disappointed that she was returning it to him so soon. He knew that it was silly, but he liked the idea of her having something of his. 

“That’s all right. You could have held onto it for a while.”

“I noticed that there’s a stitch here that’s gotten snagged and come loose. You should really get it fixed as it could run.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s been like that for a while. I’ve been meaning to get it fixed somehow, but I didn’t know where to go exactly or who to ask, and I wanted to be careful with it.”

“It’s a hand knit then?”

Yes, my mother made it for me. She passed away a few years ago…

I’m sorry to hear that. I had no idea. I could mend it for you if you like. I’d be very careful with it, and I’ve repaired hand knits before. 

“Really?”

“Yes, I brought some yarn that I think matches rather well, but of course I wanted to check with you first.” She dug three hanks of yarn out of her bag., setting them out on the table. “You can pick which one you think matches the best.”

“He looked from her to the yarn spread out on the desk. “You had all of this just laying around at your apartment?”

“No, not exactly. I actually had to go to a yarn shop or two to find it.” She paused, not looking him in the eye. “But I had some extra time this morning since someone came and completely dug out my car,” she said, giving him a pointed look.

“Probably some anonymous good Samaritan,” he said, feigning innocence.

Again they stood looking at each other for a long moment. Finally, she broke the spell. “I suppose I’d better let you get back to work. I ‘ll go home and fix the scarf and bring it by later for you.”

“I’m not working later,” he said.

“Oh,” she answered, surprised at how disappointed that made her feel. “The next time I see you then,” she said, thinking that she didn’t know exactly when that would be. “Take care, then,” she added, turning to go.

“Bye, thanks,” he said, watching her go.

She was out into the cafe before Steve realized that he had the perfect excuse to see her outside of work but had stood there saying nothing. He caught her just as she was about to go out the door. “Peggy,” he called, and she stopped and turned. “I’m not working later but—could I take you out to dinner?”

She hesitated, and for a moment he was afraid he had pushed too far. “I mean, not a date or anything, just as a thank you for fixing the scarf,” he added quickly.

“All right, I guess,” she said slowly.

“Pick you up at 7?”

“Ok, see you then,” she replied, still thoughtful as she headed out into the cold.

* * *

Peggy seemed a little out of sorts the whole evening, and Steve wondered if the whole idea had been a mistake. She had returned his scarf and he had thanked her profusely. The conversation over dinner hadn’t exactly lagged; he always found it easy to talk to her. But in between topics, something about her mood seemed a little off, as if she had doubts about the whole idea of being out with him. He thought he had been reading her signals right last night, that she was as attracted to him as he was to her. But maybe she had just been flirtatious, although she didn’t seem the type. Or maybe she had been drunk, although she had seemed fine.

He grabbed the check as soon as it arrived and before she had a chance to reach for it herself. 

“Let me split it with you”, she said.

“I’ve got it,” he said, as he looked it over.

“But you were very clear that this was not a date,” she said sharply.

His head shot up at her tone. “Does that bother you?” he asked, confused. He moved his hand a fraction of a inch towards hers on the table but stopped short of touching her.

“No, not at all,” she said, looking down in her lap.

He waited in silence, not sure of what to say next.

“Yes, it does,” she said, finally looking up. “I just don’t know what to do about it. I’ll be moving away from here by the summer with any luck. That’s not enough time to get any kind of relationship going, and I don’t want a long distance thing either. It’s just not the right time to get involved with anyone, even if they’re the right person.”

Hope sprang up in his chest at her words. “Do you think—I mean, is there any chance that I’m the right person for you?”

“Yes,” she said, looking him square in the eye.

“I know we’ve only known each other for a few weeks, and it’s too soon to say that we’re right for each other,” he said, while he was thinking that it wasn’t too soon and he did know. “But let me tell you that if we were to start dating, and things were going well, but you had to move, I would move with you.”

“Really?” she asked. “You mean that?”

He nodded in reply. “If you’re lucky enough to find the person you want to be with, that’s worth moving for, don’t you think?“ he asked.

“Let’s get out of here, shall we?” she said, reaching for his hand.

“Is it all right if I pay then?” he asked.

“Yes, thank you,” she said, smiling, with a hint of something else in her eyes that he couldn’t quite name, but made him consider whether he should just leave his credit card behind to speed their departure.

Later, settled on the couch in Peggy’s apartment, he finally did what he had wanted to do for weeks that had seemed like years. He took her face in his hands and kissed her, at first barely touching his lips to hers. They settled into each other, her hands sliding up around his neck, and his sliding down to wrap around her waist. Again and again they kissed, until they were both flushed and breathless.

After a pause, he kissed his way up her neck, stopping just below her earlobe. “So”, he whispered, “Are you completely satisfied with our date?” he asked.

“Well, maybe not _completely_ ”, she said, with a wicked smile, scooting even closer to him and swinging her legs up across his lap, “But the night’s still young, darling.”


End file.
